


Okay, from the top, but better this time

by SpaceWonderland



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fanfic!, Multi, So... Who else mad with Got end?, The solution?, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWonderland/pseuds/SpaceWonderland
Summary: ... Also known as: the one where I didn't like the end of Got, so I try make it better.(completely self-indulgent)
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Meera Reed/Bran Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Shireen Baratheon/Rickon Stark
Comments: 29
Kudos: 93





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so I'm already apologising.
> 
> Also, first multi-chapter fic, please be kindy :)

There is flaming rocks falling down all around, the air smells of smoke, the noise of dying beats a distant but continuous sound; and yet the Godswood remain a peacefull place. It’s Heart tree looks one breath away of dying; by the grace of the Old Gods It hasn’t caught on fire, but It’s branches are so close to the floor that it looks like is trying to return back to It roots.

Admist this tragic scene, two figures can be seen. One is a lady, young, cloaked in dark grey. The other is a man, reclining against the Heart tree, who wears the face of someone clinging desperately for one last hope, and yet there is a certain tranquility about him.

“Are you certain that this is the only way uncle?” asked the girl.

“Yes.”  


“Well…” deep breath. “I will trust you then.”


	2. BEFORE THE BEGINNING I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that I never whatched the show and read the books about 3 years ago. Oh, well. Enjoy.

**Jon Snow**

_“’I’m sure they are just behind us, they most likely with a handful of old books’ he says, trying to believe it himself, all the while holding the brave face in front of what is left of his people…”_

Jon Snow came awake with his heart in his throat, his blood on fire. Looking wilding around, he found himself in an almost familiar room. It was small, but not small enough for it to be uncomfortable, with a cot, a place where to put clothes, a slim space for a fire, a petite basin, a few books and a wood sword up against a corner, a little window covered in snow and not much else.

While trying to calm his heart and breathing, he tried remember what in his dream cause such a torment in him. But try as he might, nothing came to mind. Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, he starts to remember… _Snow deep to the knees… Air like ice… A sword in hand… Fight and death everywhere… A distant light… Cold blue eyes…_

Now in his feet, Jon looks around to finally recognize his old room from before his travel to the Wall, before all the pain.

It is then that he hears the sound of steps outside, getting louder as it comes closer to the door. Right when he notices, the noise stops. Hoping that the Gods finally take pity on him after all that he had to suffer, he opens the door.

There, looking really young, is Sansa. Small in a way he almost forgot, her hair is all messed up and without any kind of braid, she is in her nightclothes, as if she also had a nightmare and just came running from her old chamber. But her eyes a familiar, they are the same eyes that convinced him to fight for her, to take her home back, to always keep fighting until she is finally safe and happy. Only now she looks at him the same way that she did the first time they saw each other in Castle Black, just after he was revived by the red witch; like she was lost and at last found what she was looking for.

And like before, with no words, they were hugging with the strength they have. Somehow, they end up on the floor, holding each other for dear life; Sansa’s head in his neck and shoulder, he on sitting with her practically in his lap; her repeating over and over again “You’re here, you’re really here”, while Jon only answer is to hug her tighter, caress her hair and say “Aye, I am”. After countless minutes, Sansa displace hear head off his neck, and adjust herself enough so she can look in his eyes, but without separate form him more than necessary.

“Jon… How… Why you don’t have a beard?” she asks, placing her hands in his face, as if his beard is a hiding secret she can uncover with her touch.

He chuckles “Well, I didn’t know you liked my beard so much.”

She continues her exploration of his face, but now there is a small furrow between her eyebrows “It made you look dignified.”

His hands, that somehow end up on her waist, starts to move in small circles “I lost a beard, you lost your height. I wonder what the rest of our family and friends lost.”

With that, a serious looks appear on her face. “Our family… Do you think that they are back like you and me? Father, Mother…” 

“Robb, Rickon.”

“And if they did, do they remember anything? Also how did we get here? Why? Who did this? Are they planning something? Are they on our side? Can they be trusted? If not, what we will do? Can they even be-“

It was Jon’s turn to take her face between his hands “Sansa, breath” he touch her forehead with his awhile they did just that “We will get through this together, but first, we need to understand what is happening.”

Sansa looks at him with surprise “When did you learnt to be calm rationality in a stressful situation?”

Jon just continues to run his fingers to her face “I had a good example, you might remember her: tall, red hair knows how to use a needle, is one of the bravest person that I know.”

Her cheeks are lightly redish “Alright, I get what you mean. Who are you and what you did to my broodish Jon?”

Now his cheeks are red “What motive would I have to brood? I’m here with you, in what appear to be a place so far without anyone trying to kill us. Sounds like heaven to me.”


	3. BEFORE THE BEGINNING II:

**Ned Stark**

_“He can hear his daughter crying, begging for mercy, but it matters not, for there is no one here who cares for it. Then a shadow came across the sun, he feels the cold of steel in his neck…”_

There is cold sweat all over Ned’s body when he wakes up. He turns around, and right beside him is his wife, Catelyn, still sleeping. She looks young in her sleep, no worries about Lannisters and their nefarious plots for the Stark family or the Kingdom. And yet even this vision can’t bring him absolute peace, for in his mind the moment in which Ser Ilyn Payne sword touched his neck is all that can occupy his head.

He cannot stay in bed like this; he needs to move, to breathe, to do something…

And that’s how Ned sees himself in his solar; the windows wide open for the ice cold night air of the North. The moon is a bright white spot in the sky; the ruffling of the trees breaches and the whisper of the wind the only sounds of the night…

“Well, at least that make one thing easy.” said a voice, apparently coming from the bottom of the windows.

“Speak for… Your… Self!” said another voice, more faint, it’s owner sounding breathless “Why do I… Still listen… To you anyway?”

“I am your favorite uncle.”

“ You are… The only uncle… The I ever met!”

Ned stood in his place, undecided between looking around for something to defending himself with or just wait what else the Gods had reserved for him this night. In the end, he decided to just move closer to where the sticks use for keep the fire high were and prepare.

Not too long after, two figures came from the window. Both small, one was a boy he knew, his son Brandon, once more in one of his adventures, though he never had climbed, to Ned knowledge, as high as his solar before. The other figure was in their knees, gulping air deeply, cloaked in dark grey.

“That was really invigorating!” said Bran, hands in his hips and looking proud “I’ve missed this!”

“I am truly happy that you’re feeling this way” said the figure, a young and female voice “for I feel like I left all the air the I had inside me behind.”

“This is only beginner’s pain.”

“Yes, and I will end it by never doing it again.”

“Bran.” Ned felt the need to interrupt, for it appear that left alone, his son and his companion would keep it for hours “What a you doing here, at this hour, coming from the window? You know how dangerous climb is, especially at night! And you bring a friend to this foolishness?”

“Father!” exclaims Bran, turning from his friend and coming to hug Ned “I’ve missed you! Your head looks way better attached to your neck!”

Ned, of course, returned the hug “Bran, what are you talking about…”

Now Bran separates himself from his father “But you’re awake! Don’t you remember your past life?” he looks at his father with a light frown.

“Or maybe he just awake up and didn’t had enough time to assimilate everything yet” said the young girl from where she stood, now reclined against the open window, observing the family moment.

“Yes, you are right niece! Father, if you would please, may you check to see if there is anyone else awake right now? It would be less suspicious if the lord just had a rough night than his son around.”

“Bran, you are talking extremely weirdly…” Ned took another look at his son, Bran always had been a happy child, full of energy, always climbing, dreaming with the day he would be a knight. Now however, Bran looked so happy that nothing could possibly make his smile go away, and yet, there was something fundamentally different about him. 

“Father, I know, there is a lot to talk about. But first, is necessary we know how else have they memory back.” Bran looks right into his father eyes, appearing older and wiser than his six name days.

“Alright. I will do it. But when I come back, we going to talk.” Ned says in a tone that breaks no excuses.

Ned then leaves his solar. Cat is still sleeping, as is Arya, Robb and Rickon. Sansa’s chamber is empty, so he goes to the pantry to see if his eldest daughter had one more sudden craving for lemon cakes. When the search brings no result, he goes then to the gardens, the Sept he made for his wife, and even the Godswood. Nevertheless, these places turn out to be empty too. So Ned goes for the improbable places Sansa would be, such as the smithery, the stables, the kennel, and even the training ground, all obtaining the same result.

Before panic could fully settle in, Ned remembered the one place he didn’t checked: the servants’ quarters. Now with new hope, he forthwith made his way there. It really the last place he would think his daughter would ever be, but today was a weird night, so nothing was out of question.

And so, in front of the open door of his secret nephew’s room, there was Sansa and Jon. Both on the floor, her practically in his lap, holding each other tight.

“Sansa? Jon? What is happening here?”

“Father!” Sansa says, jumping from Jon straight to her father’s arms, tightly hugging his torso. Returning her embrace, Ned looks up from the top of his daughter and sees Jon staring at him as if he was a ghost. Reaching one arm out, Ned made a motion if his hand to welcoming Jon in the embrace. Without delay, his nephew joined the family moment.

After a time, Ned moves away enough that he could put a hand in each of the children shoulders. “My children, not that I’m not happy to see you both as well, but what bring it on?”

“What do you mean Father?” Asked Sansa, innocently, however there was an air of tension about her.

Ned thought to question her further, but then recalled his odd dream and his self imposed task “Are you two all right? Did anything out of the ordinary happen?”

“Something like what, Lord Stark?” inquired Jon.

“Children, have you had a peculiar dream this night?”

Both Sansa and Jon looked at each other, in way that brought Ned memories of countless instances where the same happened between he and his lady wife “What are you talking about, Father?” Sansa replied, cautiously.

Ned sighed a little “I not sure that I even know” he scratched his chin “Well, according to Bran, all of us who are awake must reunite.”

“Bran knows what is happing?” Jon looked intense.

“It appear so”

Sansa up turned her chin a little “Than lets us get some answers. Where is he?”

“In my solar. Come along, children.”

All the way to his solar, none of them said a word, all with their heads full of questions. The closer they got, it was possible to hear the sound of voices.

“…It will work.”

“You do not know that.”

“I have faith.”

“I’d prefer something more tangible.”

“All shall be right now.”

“So you keep saying.”

In his solar, the windows were now closed, the brazier has been lit, spreading warm in the room and casting shadows around. In the chairs, there are the two people who were responsible for the voices that were heard. They were both turned towards each other; one was Bran, the other belonged to an unknown girl, now uncloaked, exposing her long white hair.

Bran moves his head and sees Ned, Sansa and Jon “Look, they are here!”

Now was the girl’s turn to move, staring at then with familiar grey eyes “Yes, now let’s talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bran is OOC? Yes. Why? Well, he just got his legs and family back, so he just can't hold it back.
> 
> Also, Ned, at least in my head, is a tired emo dad with a weakness cute things (his children, strays...)


	4. BEFORE THE BEGINNING III:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very inconsistent with every thing in my life, so I while I like to think that I will finish this story, I cannot say for sure when I will be posting chapters.
> 
> Anyawya, enjoy, :)

**Sansa Stark**

Sansa couldn’t take her eyes of her brother. Right in front of her, seated in a chair that dwarfs his small figure, swinging his leg – his legs! – was Bran, looking carefree and happy as the time before everything bad ever happened to their family.

“So son, now that we are all here, will explain what is happening?” the sound of her father’s voice took her attention of her little brother and back to the situation at hand.

Lightly shaking her head, Sansa focus her thoughts towards the one person present in her father’s solar that she didn’t know. The unknown girl was looked young, if perhaps older than Sansa’s current age, beautiful, small, and eerily similar to the other white-head girl she met, the Dragon Queen, excerpt the eyes, those were Jon’s, Arya’s and her father’s eyes, Stark’s eyes.

The girl was observing her as well. She was staring at her with something like recognition and voracious curiosity. After a moment, Sansa noticed that the girl was not only staring at her, but Jon and her father also, in her face a mixture of the feeling someone gets when something they thought lost forever only is finally found again and something like longing.

At her brother nod, her father closed the door behind him, and he, Jon and she settle in the unoccupied chairs.

“Well, than I suppose that everybody here had a bad night sleep today” Bran started saying “Let us start at the beginning. The dreams that woke up you are real. They are memories from a future that we will try to prevent. Father, what is the last thing you remember? It doesn’t matter how it might impossible, please tell us everything.”

Her father’s face became tense “I- “a deep swallow “I was in King’s Landing, preparing to be executed by the royal executioner.”

“Yes, and before that?”

“King Robert came to Winterfell, made me and my daughters go to live in the Red Keep, were I was to be his Hand.”

“So you remember mostly everything that happened before right until your death” her father face paled, Bran expressed little concern “What about you Jon?”

Jon eyebrows frowned “Arya killed the Night King. Than everything went black.” He had a fare away look in his face “I also dreamed that I was reassuring someone of something…” the frown came back “but I can’t remember quite what.”

“Sansa?”

“A raven came for me, with news of Jon imprisonment.” Jon turned suddenly to her, confusion all over his face. But before she could starts to explain, Bran returned to talk.

“I remember everything that happened. So I have a history to tell you.” He reclined against his chair “As all of you know, the Starks luck run out once out of Winterfell. After father’s death, Sansa became a Lannister’s prisoner, Arya managed to escape, and Robb started a war and mother accompanied him, leaving me and Rickon to rule Winterfell, he was declared King in the North and later he and mother died by traitors hands at his own wedding.”

‘Sansa escapes the Red Keep, hiding in the Vale, later goes back to Winterfell, which is now controlled by a madman, since me and Rickon were betrayed and went in hiding. She escapes yet again, this time going to the Wall, where she found Jon, who had been killed by his brothers. After, the both of then retake Winterfell, but Rickon – who had been captured by the madman – dies. And so Jon is declared King in the North.’

‘A little after, Jon is called to Dragonstone by the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targeryen. Sansa stays in Winterfell, as Lady and his regent. Arya and I come back. When Jon comes back, he had bent the knee – the only way to convince the queen to fight with us – and brings the new queen and her two dragons. We all fight the Night King and his army and win, and one of her dragons dies. But the price for the queen help is more men to help her take King’s Landing. She wins, burning everything with her remaining dragon, which dies a while latter. Witnessing her madness, Jon kills her and her allies imprison him. Sansa comes and take him back to north.’

‘Later, is decided that the North and South are separated kingdoms, with Sansa as Queen in the north and Elliaria Sand as Queen in the south. It was a time peace and spring. Nonetheless, even though there is no more war, there was still a problem. The nature itself started to change. The earth in the north became puddles of melted stone, the skies brought rocks from above, the nights were never ending. Many died trying to escape, and so it was decided that all remaining people should go to White Harbor, embark a ship and go away from Westeros.’

A heavy silence was the only thing remaining after her brother’s tale. Sansa’s head was spinning with the quantity of information brought. Her as queen… the nature revolting against people… the period of peace before that... It was too much.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed down her beating heart, and focus one problem at time “And how do we stop it? Do you even know what caused that disaster? I assume you have a plan little brother?” she proud herself that her voice was only slightly shaking, refusing to think more without having all possible information.

“It was caused by magic of course.” Says Bran.

“Explain.” Jon, his elbows in his legs, hands supporting his head, staring intensely at her brother, looking every bit the commander he was a life before.

“Magic is part of the world. And dragons, for being magic creatures, are directly connected with it. When, in the past, the dragons were extinct the first time, it went dormant for a long time.” Her brother looked like maester Luwin giving lessons to her and her siblings, reclined as he was, with his hands intertwined in his lap, voice clear and precise. “When Daenerys brought her dragons to life, Magic was beginning to be restored, and that event created an effect in the whole world. Their death not so long later, broke the restoration process, which lead the Magic to become… ‘Erratic’, for lack of a better word.”

“So the wake of the Night King was because of Daenerys?” Jon focus – almost an obsession – in the Night King, even after witnessing his death, was clearly something that not even a new life could diminish.

“Not exactly.” A pause to rearrange his thoughts “It’s not so simple. The Night King was not properly defeated the first time, so he always would come back at some point. Daenerys action certainly helped, but it was not the decisive factor. It’s was more question of bad timing.”

“So we’ll have to fight him again.”

“Yes, it is highly probable. I’m not sure what exactly caused him to wake up, and whatever it is will probably happen again, but this time we will make sure he doesn’t get a dragon, which will make defeat him easier.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” She brought the conversation back to the original point.

“Well” her brother rubbed his hands together, looking much excited “Since we got a new chance in life, we will make sure everything will be better this time! First, Father has to survive his trip to King’s Landing.”

Turning her attention to her father, she notices how pale his face has become”You still want me to go there? Even knowing what happened?”

“It’s not like you can refuse to go, Father” she says “When the king comes to Winterfell, and he will, what can you possibly say that would make him change his mind and let you stay here?”

“He only wanted me as Hand because Jon Arryn died, so we just warn Jon…” his voice becomes weaker as he realizes the situation fully.

“And say what? That we know his wife will kill him because magic gave us memories of a future that we are trying to change? You know he would never believe us.”

“So I should just let him die?” her father look distraught at the notion.

I stared him straight in his eyes “Yes.” Then, with my voice more gentle “I know is hard, nonetheless is what you will do, for we do not have another choice.”

Her father was gazing at her as if seeing her for the first time “Aye. You’re right.”

“As I was saying” Bran continued “Father has to survive King’s Landing. Sansa, you are the best of us at politics, any idea how to accomplish that?”

She took a moment to arrange her thoughts “Before, Father died because he was too honorable to be quiet about Joffrey true parentage and trusted in the wrong people, more specifically, Littlefinger and Cersei. This time, the best he can do is to avoid attracting attention to himself until King Robert death, than he can claim to be in too much mourning to continue his job as Hand, and ask permission to return back to Winterfell.”

Her father look uncertain “Do you really this would work?”

“Why wouldn’t? Without you accusing her of anything, Cersei would have no reason to keep us in the Red Keep any longer after King Robert’s passing. You asking to leave would probably be seeing as a favor in her plans.”

“Us? This is too much dangerous as it is. I am going alone.”

“I don’t think you can do that.” Breathing deeply, she continued “King Robert will certainly ask for a betrothal between me and Joffrey again. You just say no. So this time around, you will claim that while I am too young to an actual betrothal agreement, it would be more appropriate for me, Mother, Arya and Rickon go with you south, so after spending time with Joffrey and getting to know each other, the betrothal conversation would begin again. That way the King is kept happy and I do not get engaged.”

Bran smiled at her “That a great plan Sansa!”

“What else?” Her father asked.

“The second part of my plan: we need to start helping the Wall and the North to prepare.” Bran explains.

“The Wall will be the best defense against the Night King, but as it is now, even without a dragon, the Night King would be able, if not destroy it, at least kill many of the brothers of the Night’s Watch.” Jon says.

“And the others northern houses are awfully unprepared to winter, few of them has a glass garden, and those are too small to provide enough food.” She says.

“I will start make arrangements to provide the Wall and the northern houses with more supplies and schemes for glass garden when we finish here.” Her father promised. “Moreover, what about the people who betrayed Robb? Am I correct to assume they are northern?”

“Yes.” She answered “Yet, we cannot accuse or punish then of a crime they didn’t commit. We will keep a closer look at their activities until they slip.”

“While you, Mother, Father, Arya and Rickon go south” her brother says “I will stay here at Winterfell and help Robb to continue Father efforts.”

There was something that was bothering her “Are we the only ones who remembers?”

“I do not know.” Bran answered “It is possible that others do. There is no way of knowing for sure unless they prove it.”

It was something that she would keep in mind. She needs to prepare contingencies in case anyone who was not an ally decide to use their knowledge to harm herself and her family. The silence after Bran announcement was broken by Jon.

“And what will I do?” He asked.

“The third and final part of my plan: we need to get Daenerys and her eggs before she hatches then.”

“Why? I thought we would keep the dragons away from everything.”

“Because we need the dragons. They are linked with the Magic awaking, and it needs to be restored. Therefore, the best away to handle that is to control the dragons ourselves.”

“Say I can control then. Do you know how to hatch then? Because I certainly don’t. And what about Daenerys? She went mad the last time, why do you think this time will be any better?”

“In my visions I saw her past. She as much a result of situations out of her control as we, but she didn’t have any family to be a go back to, just a throne that everybody said it was taken from her.” Bran pause to let the idea sink in. “It’s my hope that if we bring her here, prior to her marriage with the warlord, if we treat her as kindly, she won’t become mad with power.”

Jon shot a glance at me “Just because we share blood doesn’t mean she will listen to me.”

“The Daenerys you met and the one you will meet are different. “ Bran seemed very certain of this “Anyway, it is best to at least try.”

“Talking about Jon’s parentage” I said “Father, you should tell Mother the truth.”

“You know?” It was her father surprised response.

“ Yes. Me, Bran, Jon and Arya all know.” She pause a moment ”Tough I suppose Arya doesn’t remember it now.”

“I can’t.” her father said “King’s Landing already is dangerous enough. I couldn’t put her in this position of keeping this secret. Once we’re safe here in Winterfell I will tell her, not before.”

“But we have to say something to her “I said “At least about Littlefinger. She still sees him as a friend.”

“I will.” Her father turned his gaze to Jon “I know there is nothing that I can say to make things better. I don’t regret my decision to keep the truth hidden from you. But if there is anything you want to know about your mother, just ask me.”

“Yeah-… I mean, yes, this would be great.” Jon had a small smile in his face. He then shake his head slightly, as if to shake his thoughts away, and turned to Bran “You still didn’t told us how we are supposed to hatch the dragons eggs.”

“With fire and blood, of course.” Said the unknown girl. She had been so silent during the whole conversation that Sansa forgot she was there. “The same way that the Magic and the dragons, so are the Targaryens and the dragons. The only reason that the dragons were extinct formerly was because the Targaryens of old were not worthy of the dragon bond. All their internal fight brought the house disgrace.” Her shines as she talks “Do you know how the first real Targaryen was created? No?”

‘So, in a long time past, there was a mother with a dying child, her only and most precious child, with dark hair and dark eyes; and so she implored the Gods of Valyria for help. Then, in the next day, when the first light of the Sun touch the ground, a dragon was formed, black as darkness, bigger then a mountain, eyes as red as fire; flew towards the mother, open it’s big mouth and, with a thousand voices combined in one, said: ‘I am the response to your prayers. For this day forward, I shall be bonded to your child. But first you must prove your trust in The Gods.’ And so the mother put her baby right at the dragon feet and walks away. She only came back in the next day, whereas she found a white-head and purple eyed baby and the dragon. Coming closer, she recognized the child as her own. Then, she turned to the dragon, who said: ‘We now share the same blood and magic, for I breathed my fire on This One and my blood was given to replace This One old weak one. From this day to my last, I am to belong to This One, for bonded now we are.’

‘Accordingly, we only need remake this scenario here at Winterfell. We can use the Wolfswood to hatch the eggs undisturbed; it is also big enough for the fire required. We can cut our palms for the blood. With Dany, we will three riders, one for which dragon. We can also use the hot springs caves for hiding then until they are big enough to be ridden.’

Sansa stares at her “And who are you?” She obviously had valyrian blood, and yet the grey Stark eyes. Could she be Daenerys’ daughter? But according to Bran, the Dragon Queen died not too long after her last memory. Nonetheless, if this were true, it meant that her eyes could only come from her father, a Stark, and Bran couldn’t have children in the other life, so there could be only one person…

The girl blushed slightly “Oh! I started babbling and forgot to introduce myself.” She lowered her head, appearing to have a sudden fascination with her own hands in her lap “My name is Leannys Stark Targaryen.”

“Daenerys’ daughter, correct?”

“Hun… Not exactly…” The girl’s voice started to fade a little. Then, she took a deep breath – much the same way Sansa herself did when she was to speak something she knew that might not be taken well by others – and raised her head. “My father name is Jon Stark Targaryen, and my mother is Sansa Stark Targaryen.”

Sansa could feel the blood that was making her face red as her hair and her heart beating loud and fast. If the girl – Leannys – was telling the truth, that meant that, besides becoming Queen in the North, ruling it we all her remaining siblings, living a time of peace, Jon and her had married… Had a baby…No. She was not going to think about all the implications of that now. There are things to be done with her little brother’s plan was to be successful, so she was concentrate on then.

But first things first “All right” She said, clapping her hands together once, without looking at anyone face. “I think that’s sufficient for tonight. Soon will be morning, we should all return to ours chambers.” Now she turn her attention to Leannys “But you will come with me. We need to do something about your hair, it is much too noticeable, and since you will be staying here in Winterfell until the time of your trip to bring Daenerys, we should make sure nobody questions your presence as my new personal handmaid.”

Leannys smiled a little “Yeah… That would be for the best…”

Sansa then turned around, in the direction of her father’s solar door, without looking back to see if she was being followed. But even so, she still could feel the weight of familiar eyes on her back all the away out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I didn't find a away to mention in the chapter, but even doe Sansa remembers Jon being imprisioned, she doesn't know why, so she doesn't know that Jon killed Dany.


	5. BEFORE THE BEGINNING IV:

**Jon Snow**

He was still staring at the closed door. After the girls left, the silence in Lord Stark’s solar was almost a palpable entity on its own. Silence and stillness was never a good combination for him, it often predicted something bad. Which only helps Jon’s chaotic mess of a mind to get even more disorganized. It was too much; a war that outwardly went well, only for make little difference in the end; a new chance to do things right this time around, but a magnitude of new ways in which they could make the wrong choice; a unknown daughter from a future he does not remember; all memory and pain and sorrow of a future they will fight their hardest for never let happen again; what of his relationship with Sansa…

But now wasn’t the time for this. Once he was alone – preferably in the training yard, a sword in hand and with no one trying to kill him – he could go and try to untangle his thoughts. For now, he will focus on what is in his reach. Taking in consideration experience in his brain versus that of his body, he would need to train harder than ever before. Speaking of which…

“Bran, how long do we have until the King arrives?” He asked, focusing his attention back to the people still with him in the solar.

“Hun… Twelve moons turns, give or take a sennight.”

“So this should be time enough so we can think of how to deal with the Free Folk.”

“Free Folk?” Lord Stark asked.

“It’s how the wildlings call themselves. Last time, a grand number of them were added to the Night King’s army, it would be best if we could at least diminish the quantity of killing as much as possible.” He didn’t think he had the capacity to suffer another Massacre of Hardhome.

“And would that even be possible? The wildlings have no rule, no order, they are savages.”

“They have their own way of doing things, yes. It’s quite different from the ways of Westeros. But they were the first to become aware and suffer the Night King threat. And though they do not serve a king, they do listen to their own leaders, most of all to Mance Rayder.”

“What do you know about this Mance Rayder? Can he be reasonable with?”

“Aye. He may be an Oathbreaker and deserter, but he cares about the Free Folk and wants to survive as much as anyone else.”

He didn’t think about Mance Rayder in a long time. He could still view the moment of the man’s death in his mind; see the burning body, hear his screams, the acrid smell in the air, the tension manner that the people watching held themselves, Stannis’ solemn face all through all…

“Sansa’s right” Bran interrupted his thoughts. “It’s late; we should go back to ours chamber and try to sleep.” His brother was already in his feet. “Good night, Father, Jon.”

Jon mumbled a parting and left. Most all of Winterfell still sleeping, his steps echoed in the darks hallways. At some point, somehow he got all the way back to his chamber. Lying down in his cot, his head was fraught with images; Tormund telling a joke; drink ale together at Winterfell; the day Lord Commander Mormont gave him Longclaw; Ygritte’s hair illuminated by a fire; her fading voice saying: _You know nothing, Jon Snow_ … 

…

The morning didn’t bring Jon any clarity. Tired for the lack of sleep, but too wake to try and go back to sleep, he decided that maybe for once the Old Gods would answer his prayer and give some much need guidance; if not at least the strength to endure what was to come.

It was too early to be wake, and yet it was already possible to see servants moving about Winterfell. All the way to the Godswood, people had the face that one has when doing something that been already done many times before. All those people only knew the tranquility of peace. Even the castle on itself was different. There were no marks of fires past, no indication of battles fought, no signs of reconstruction. At the same time, the Godswood was as it always was; a place where, no matter the what, held an aura of dignity and serenity.

Kneeled by the Heart tree, hands pressed together and facial expression of intense concentration, was Lord Stark. Thinking it was not his place to interrupt a man’s moment with his Gods, Jon waited in silence until the man who raised him was finished. It was in moments like this, of silence and wait, that Jon missed Ghost the most. The direwolf might be a great advantage in a fight, however, more than that, Ghost was alike a piece of his own soul. Even before his first death, he was felt more certain of himself with his direwolf at his side.

“Oh, Jon, good morning” Lord Stark got up, cleaning any dirt that might have got caught in his clothes. “After all the talking last night, it got me thinking that you should have a more formal education. As I understand it, most of the grasp you have of commanding and ruling came from necessity and a more ‘hands-on’ approach. If anything were to happen, it would be best you had as much knowledge as feasible. That said, I was thinking you should join Robb’s lessons with Maester Luwin. What do you think?”

That was not something he expected to hear “That would be great.” A thought crosses his mind “Although, I don’t think Lady Stark will approve of it.”

“Let me deal with my lady wife. Maybe she will get distracted with where and how a get Sansa a new handmaiden overnight, especially without consult her.” A deep sigh that all weary man seems to share “Since this is decided, I’d like you to accompany a moment.”

Accenting his consent, he followed Lord Stark out of the Godswood. Halfway in the walk, to his bewilderment, he realized that they were going towards the Crypts.

Lord Stark made his way towards a statue that Jon spend countless hours staring at. Lyanna Stark, sister to Eddard Stark, she-wolf of Winterfell, his mother. In the stone face, he tried again and again to see some resemblance, something that would make him say to himself _Yes, I know you, something in me is the same in you…_ He – naively – thought that finally knowing who his mother was – knowing his story – would be enough; instead, he only got more questions than before.

“There is something I would like to give you” Lord Stark was kneeling by the feet of Lyanna’s statue “Where is it… Ha!” He opened a hidden compartment, taking out a brown package “I was waiting until you were six and ten. Nonetheless, the situation we living in being what it is, I thought it best to give it to you now.”

Inside the package, there was a sword. A valyrian steel sword; it was similar to Longclaw, except the blade coloring was a little more gray; it’s pommel was a growling wolf with red eyes, but closer to where the wolf’s mouth finish, there was a small and detailed blue snowflake.

“This was you mother sword.” Lord Stark made some kind of aborted gesture with his hand “Our father had it made for her so she would stop stealing from the armory. She called it Lupusnix. It means Snow Wolf in the Old Tongue.”

Jon couldn’t take his eyes of the sword. It fit perfectly in his hands. But more than that, it was finally a concrete piece that connects him with his mother. Something that he knows it was hers, which she would have probably taught how to use.

“I-…“ Some undefined emotion caught on his throat “Thank you.” He managed to get out. With his mother’s sword in hand, he finally had the courage to ask something that was in his mind since hi find out his true parentage “Lord Stark, how should I address you? After all…” His voice was fading at the end.

Lord Stark put his hands in Jon’s shoulders “Jon, let me be clear. I may not have sired you, but you are my family and I love as my own. Uncle or father, it matters not.”

Jon hold tight the hand in his shoulder with his free hand. “Aye, Father.”

…

When they left the Crypts, it was already time for break the feast. With a stop in his chamber to put his new sword, he went to the Great Hall. There, he could see the Starks were already at positioned at their places at the main table. In the past, being left out would made him resentful, however now, he was happy to not to have to interact with people that would expect him to act as if everything was normal.

And so, he made his was to one of the servants table. He was quite focus in his food when he was interrupted.

“Hun… Hi.” It was Leannys, with her hair now changed to a darker coloring; she looked to fit better in Winterfell than before, she carried a platter. “Could I sit with you? Mor-… I mean Sansa told it would be best if I tried my best to act like a handmaiden, and apparently that means to not sit in the main table. Also, everybody who knows who I am is there, except you. Not that I wouldn’t want to spend time with you otherwise, it just that-….”

The girl seems so nervous it was a surprise she could keep talking. “That’s alright. Take a sit.”

She smiled “Thank you.” Looking at her more carefully, Jon could see some of Sansa in her. The shape of the eyes; the way the smile made a small dimple appear in her cheek; how her hands would always appear to be moving a little; how way she was sitting very straight but without any visible discomfort; that was all Sansa.

Looking at the main table, it was difficult to tell that Sansa spend the major part of night awake. She appear as rested as ever, every inch a lady, talking with her siblings and parents, her eyes never once starting in his direction.

“You know, you should talk to her.” Leannys as looking at him now “You two are always the best together. And it’s not like this whole situation isn’t news for her as well. Everything is very weird for everybody. The both of you could… I don’t know… Meet in… Not the Sept, Gran- Lady Catelyn and the Septa would catch you… The glass garden? No, what you would being doing there? Too suspicious. The Crypts? Morbid. The Godswood? Yeah… You could always say that you were praying. Now is the time of the meet we should think of… Maybe during morning? But then again maybe midday would be best…”

“Do you spend much time thinking about ways to meet someone without others noticing a lot?” In truth, the quantity of words Leannys was capable of talk between one breath and the other was unlike anyone he ever met. He couldn’t see how anyone related to him would be like that. And yet, that was something endearing about it. The more she talks, the more he wants to know about her.

“For your information, I just like to explore. Winterfell is such a big place, one can never know enough about it. But not like Bran does, no. Climbing does not work with me at all. Walks and riding a horse are fine, wonderful even, depending on the climate. There were this time when I…”

While she talks, Jon finds only half of his mind listening to her. The other part is full thoughts about Sansa. He knew he would have to talk to her eventually. And yet, just the thought of it was dreading. People always said he was a brave warrior, but when it comes to Sansa, _Jon was a craven_.


End file.
